


A Better Plan

by rm (arem)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: writerinadrawer, WriterInADrawer 4.04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-02
Updated: 2010-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-10 08:45:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arem/pseuds/rm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Writer in a Drawer <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/writerinadrawer/138682.html">round 4.04</a>.  Please follow the link to see the parameters of this challenge.</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Better Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Writer in a Drawer [round 4.04](http://community.livejournal.com/writerinadrawer/138682.html). Please follow the link to see the parameters of this challenge.

Gwen sat next to Ianto, leaning against his shoulder. He smiled slightly at the contact, but ignored her as he continued to type at his makeshift workstation.

She sighed in hopes of distracting him into talking to her, but knew it was unlikely. He'd been grim and unpleasantly focused since they had decamped to the grey, grimy green of Flat Holm from the now flooded Hub which she knew was likely breeding red algae and black mold in its solitude.

"Does it really bother you so much, being here?" she asked, wanting to tease out Ianto's secrets. She suspected they were, in some ways, as significant as Jack's even if they were presumably, necessarily more terrestrial.

"Yes," he said tersely, shooting the cuffs of his purple dress shirt and jabbing at his mouse less for purpose and more for spite.

"You should come up, take a break, have some lunch," she said.

He shook his head. "Best not. Might not be able to lure me back down here. We need a better plan."

"What? This is a perfectly good plan," Jack said, wiping his hands on a rag as he sauntered into the small room they had commandeered. Ianto's flicked up to him; Jack's smile seemed sincere. Despite the denials, Flat Holm was difficult for all of them, maybe even for Jack the most, but Ianto also knew he liked the constant stream of simple mechanical projects it seemed to offer him: small acts that made a small difference. That was more than they got most days.

"No, it's not," Ianto said sharply, pushing back from his computer and dislodging Gwen. "All three of us hate this place. It makes us guilty and --"

"And reminds us all of your skills at betrayal, yes, yes, we _know_ Ianto," Jack said with a fondness that almost sounded like approval.

Ianto gaped.

"Anyway, Gwen's right. It's a gorgeous day. Come up and get some sun."

"Rhys made sandwiches," Gwen offered.

"I love your house-husband," Jack said to her, tossing the rag towards a corner.

"Just, _listen_ for a second. Both of you," Ianto tried. "This isn't working. Jack, I know you think it's cool because we get to use the boat, but it's shit when we _actually have to get somewhere_. And Gwen! If you weren't miserable you wouldn't spend all your time invading my personal space, lovely though that is. Meanwhile, I can't get a decent night's sleep --"

"You could go home," Jack offered.

Ianto raised an eyebrow at him and continued as if he had not been interrupted, "-- and every, single, moment I am out here all I can think about is being one of these people, and I can't stand it. We need a real office. And a plan. And a way to drain the Hub."

Jack moved to interrupt again.

"One that doesn't involve you in waders wielding vacuum pump, thank you!"

Gwen tried and failed to stifle a giggle. "_Oh, boys_."


End file.
